Arguments
She stood by the window looking out at the cloudy sky and dull green hills that surrounded her brother's manor. She moved in shortly after her attack on the train. The Ministry fools hadn't even thought to look for her here, they were too wrapped up in the chaos of their own meaningless politics to look for her.
They underestimated her. But soon they would understand, soon they all would..
She turned back to face the man lounging in the chair by the fireplace, the firelight casting flickering shadows over his pale pointy face and blonde hair tied back in a black band. She studied him as he sipped the red wine in his hand. He annoyed her. He had the lazy but deadly grace of a hunting cat about to strike out at unsuspecting prey.
Amusement sparkled in her eyes. He really thought he could manipulate her. That she would be impressed at his pitiful master's invitation to her.
"The Dark Lord has greatly honoured you by inviting you into his presence. He has things to discuss with you." The man drawled in that amusingly superior tone that he no doubt thought would intimidate her.
He had escaped from Azkaban during the Summer along with some more of Voldemort's sheep. She was completely unimpressed with him and all his fancy speeches. She couldn't believe he had lasted this long without someone killing him. She contemplated doing it now, herself.
Maybe some other time.
Now he was too valuable. That annoyed her. Voldemort was a fool to let this man get so close to him, to give him so much power. A sneer marred her perfect face as she turned to the door. So Voldemort wanted to talk to her did he? Well tough. She didn't want to hear anything he had to say to her.
She walked towards to door, then paused as she reached the hallway.
The reconsidered. This could be quite amusing.
"Tell your master I accept"
~*~*~*~
"Good Morning class. As some of you may know, my name is professor Weasley and this is professor Tonks. Unusual as it may seem, this year you will be having two Defence against the Dark Arts professors. On Tuesday mornings you will be having your lesson with me, and on Thursday afternoons professor Tonks will be teaching you." Bill Weasley started the 6th years' first Defence against the Dark Arts lesson.
Harry, Ron and Hermione had seats in the middle of the room ,Ron refused to sit too near to the front with his brother teaching the class. He was extremely shocked when he walked in the room to see Tonks and Bill standing at the desk. He stopped dead and just stared at them. Hermione was just as shocked, but recovered a lot faster than Ron. Ron bombarded Bill with questions, but Bill only shook his head and told him to sit down and he would answer any questions when he had introduced himself to the class. Ron was still muttering to himself when the lesson finished and scowling down at the essay question Bill had set them for homework. "Well really Ron! Did you honestly expect professor Weasley to let you off homework just because he's your brother?" Ron just shot her a nasty look and walked faster to catch up with Seamus and Neville. "I don't think it's the homework that's bothering him" Harry said staring at Ron's retreating back thoughtfully. "I just don't think he wants his brother to teach him, Hogwarts is his place away from the rest of the family, now Bill's here too and has the power to give him homework and detentions." Hermione looked amazed. "You came up with that by yourself?" She said incredulously. At the look on his face she quickly added "I didn't mean…I mean…err…" she gave up and to her surprise saw him grinning at her. "What?" she asked confused. "Its just funny, seeing you lost for words. Doesn't happen too often." he replied, still grinning. She scowled at him but before she could reply a voice called out from behind them "Weasley, a professor! I can't believe it! I'm not going to be taught by that riff-raff! Dumbledore must feel sorry for him I suppose, letting him stay in the castle and be a professor instead of living in that hovel of theirs. I can't think of any other reason he'd let one of those peasants teach here!"
Harry froze mid-stride and turned around, his face oddly calm. "Well Dumbledore obviously likes having 'riff-raff' in school, after all, you're still here aren't you Malfoy? How's your mum by the way?" Draco Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink and his eyes narrowed in anger. His mother had been admitted to St. Mungo's shortly after Lucius Malfoy was sent to Azkaban. She wouldn't do anything for herself any more, she just ranted on about how useless Draco was, as if it was his fault his father was in prison. "You shut up about my mother Potter! At least I've got one!" Malfoy's wand was suddenly pointing between Harry's eyes. His other hand was clenched at his side and he was almost shaking with fury. Red sparks shot out the end of his wand as he glared furiously at Harry. "Is that the best you can do Malfoy? Not up to your usual standards is it?" Hermione said, glancing at Harry, who looked like he was about the hit Malfoy. She quickly took his arm and steered him away. Malfoy shouted after them "That's right Potter! Hide behind your mudblood girlfriend as usual!" Harry stiffened and made as if to turn around, but Hermione tightened her grip on his arm. "Ignore him Harry!" she told him sternly and continued leading him towards the common room. Harry suddenly shook her hand away. "Get off Hermione! I'm not a baby, and I don't need you making a fool out of me in front of half the school!" he said furiously and stalked off. Hermione stood in shock, her eyes wide. I can't believe he just said that… I was only trying to help she thought, and to her horror her eyes started to fill with tears. Angrily she wiped them away and turned towards the library to do her homework and forget about what Harry just said.
Harry got half way to the common room before he started feeling really guilty, Hermione was just trying to stop him getting into trouble by fighting with Malfoy. He shouldn't have said those things to her, he could see shock on her face and the tears in her eyes when he said it, but he still walked off, furious at himself more than her. Now he felt really guilty. He doubled back and went to find her. She wasn't where he left her, and she didn't go back to the common room, he would have seen her. That left the library.
He found her working furiously on what looked like an essay, head down, scribbling away at an alarming speed. Harry sat down next to her, but she didn't look up at him until she finished the paragraph she was working on. When she finally met his eyes he could see she was angry at him, and hurt.
"What're you writing?" Harry asked after a few minutes of silence. Hermione turned back to what she was writing and after a while seemed to decide to answer him. "A letter to Victor." she said shortly. "Oh" For some reason this made Harry feel kind of odd. He frowned, why should he feel odd about Hermione writing to Krum? It wasn't like he was jealous or anything! Of course not, what reason did he have? He realised Hermione was looking at him again. "A assume you came for a reason? Or are you here just to frown at me?" she asked coolly. He quickly stopped frowning and had the sense to look embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable. "I err….well…err…what I said…um…" He stumbled over his words under her cool gaze, and then looked down at the table. "What I mean is….I'm err…I'm sorry…about what I said, its not true." she was silent for so long that he finally looked up at her, wondering if she was about to shout at him. He was quite alarmed when she suddenly threw her arms round him and hugged him. He awkwardly patted her back, very surprised at her reaction, and more so at her next words. "I'm sorry too Harry. I shouldn't interfere! I just don't want to see you get in trouble. I know how horrible Malfoy is to you, and I wont stick my nose in any more, I promise I wont!" Hermione finally let go of a very surprised Harry and sat back, wiping her tears away again. She rolled up her parchment and pulled her Defence against the Dark Arts essay towards her. She was pleasantly surprised when Harry got out a spare bit of parchment and started his essay too, talking to her again as if they had never argued. was I just imagining the jealous look on his face when I said Victor's name? she wondered, then decided that wishful thinking wasn't going to get her anywhere.